


but I'm willing to give it a try

by coffeesuperhero



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-02
Updated: 2011-10-02
Packaged: 2017-10-24 07:54:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeesuperhero/pseuds/coffeesuperhero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If he must stand in the shadows, he would prefer not to stand there alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but I'm willing to give it a try

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimers** : This isn't for profit, just for fun. All characters & situations belong to Russell T. Davies, Stephen Moffat, BBC, and their various subsidiaries. I lovingly borrowed a line from Chris Nolan's Inception. I don't own that, either. Title from a song by James Morrison, which I also had nothing to do with.  
>  **A/N** : Spoilers for **everything including 6x13**. This was supposed to be smut. I don't know what happened.

"You're looking terribly pleased with yourself," River says, closing her diary and crossing one leg over the other. "Where have you come from?"

"Had to drop off a friend's head," he says. He sonics the bars open with a flourish.

"I see," she replies, tossing her diary into a bag. "How is poor Dorium?"

"A head above the rest," he jokes, and she rolls her eyes. "He asked after you. Thought I'd pop 'round to see if you fancied a spin around the universe. You and me, time and space, what do you say?"

"Yes," she says, without a moment's hesitation.

"I'm loath to encourage your penchant for rulebreaking, but this was much more expedient. I did try to come through the front door," he mentions, stepping aside to wave her into the TARDIS. "I told them I was here to see my wife. Did you know, they wouldn't recognize a traditional Gallifreyan handfasting ceremony that took place in the alternate dimension of an aborted timeline?"

"It's enough for me if _you_ recognize it," she says, studying his face. "I hardly care what anyone else thinks."

He looks at her then, really looks, sees past the airy bravado she's layered over her question right to the heart of the matter, which is, as bad luck would have it, a matter of the heart-- or hearts, in their case. It would have been terribly easy to lie to Dorium, trotting out that silly line about what River might do with her nights and then flying off to anywhen in the universe without ever bothering to come calling on the missus. It would be terribly easy to lie to River now, or at least, in theory, it would be, but now that he's here, well. That seems to be another matter entirely. If he must stand in the shadows, he would prefer not to stand there alone. He's done that before.

"Doctor?"

"Sorry," he says, waving his hands. "I forgot I wasn't talking. You. Me. Yes. Well. It did occur in a world that never was, and it was the quick version, but it seems to have stuck. Here I am, here you are, and from my point of view, at least, it's our wedding night, Doctor Song," he says, smirking at her.

"In that case, you could have just told them you were here for a conjugal visit," she says, eyes sparkling, her hands very suddenly in _places_ , which means, of course, that his hands are also necessarily in places, exciting _new_ places.

"River. You're an adventure all by yourself, aren't you?" he asks, his lips against the soft curve of her ear, and for answer she just smiles and shoves him up against the TARDIS console, quick fingers undoing his shirt buttons.

" _Not in front of the TARDIS_ ," he hisses, scandalized, and she laughs and pulls back, taking with her the wonderful pressure of her hips against his.

"Where, then?"

"Where would you like to go? All of time and space," he says, spreading his hand out as though he could present her with the universe on a platter, and in some ways, perhaps, he already has. "Your choice, Mrs. Doctor Song." He frowns at her. "Forget I said that, I'm not calling you that."

"I hear the Singing Towers of Dorillian are lovely," she says, but he shakes his head and spins around, slouching against the console, just for a moment, so that she can see neither his face nor the shadows that linger there.

"You've married yourself a Time Lord, River Song, and all you can think to do with him is go to the Singing Towers? Dream a little bigger, darling," he says, tapping her nose with his index finger.

"I can think of quite a few things to do with you, my love," River drawls. She reaches out and grips his braces, tugging him closer, and he lets her, because the last time they were this close it meant the world had to end, and this time it's not the end at all, but the start of an entirely different story.

"River Song," he says, his fingers combing through her magnificent hair. "The woman who would have wrecked the whole of time for love of me. I'm not worth it, surely you know that."

"Better that than the alternative. I'd do it again," she says, and her voice is so resolute that Rule One is clearly off the table. "I'm not sorry. I'd do it again. Don't lecture me about responsibilities. I'm as mad and impossible as you are, surely _you_ know that by now."

"It's good that we're for each other, then, and not for other people," he sighs. River or Melody, either way, she's aptly named: a force of nature or the dominant part of a song, she doesn't change course or key without reason. "I'll try and keep you away from fixed points that mean my death in future."

"And I'll try to remember that you're always one step ahead of the rest of us," she promises. "I should have known. And that, that I am sorry for, my love. Never again."

"Thank you," he says.

"For trying to unravel time?"

"For trusting me," he murmurs.

He kisses her, then, finally, tenderly, and the world doesn't fade, or maybe it does, it's difficult to say. With nights like this, the shadows aren't looking dim at all.  



End file.
